


Knowing

by MysticPuma



Series: FFXV One-shots [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Feels, Gen, Introspection, Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 03:08:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19348285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticPuma/pseuds/MysticPuma
Summary: Ignis has seen the truth of the prophecy… Now he has to cope with it.





	Knowing

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in the canon path/true ending of Episode: Ignis. Spoilers for main game and Episode: Ignis, obvs. Basically, I played Episode: Ignis and I have a LOT of feelings.  
> This was written in like an hour and it's probably riddled with mistakes or something, so you have my deepest apologies. Um... enjoy?

_What have I seen?_

_What have I SEEN?_

_WHAT HAVE I SEEN?_

The thought loops in his head for so long, they words themselves start to lose meaning. Just _what_ had Pryna shown him, in her last moments?

_It can’t be true. There is simply no way that all of this can end… like that._

He can’t even think of those words. Of the truth of what he saw, of what it means.

But as Gladio arrives, it begins to sink in.

Noctis is going to die. _That_ is his entire purpose.

He’s so busy thinking it all over that he doesn’t notice the way Gladio’s speech isn’t quite right. But Ravus does; he knows immediately that it isn’t the King’s Shield that he speaks to. And before Ignis can even berate himself for being so _blind_ , he’s being shoved to the floor and Ardyn is taunting him, and threatening Noct, and Ignis is begging and pleading and _no this isn’t fair, this isn’t right._

And then Ardyn offers him a choice. Die here, or go with him.

And Ignis hesitates because what if he can save Noctis? What if he can change the plan? What if…

His eyes alight on the ring, and he doesn’t care what the consequences are, he will protect Noctis. The image of Noctis lying there, as if in peaceful slumber, sears into his mind as his eyesight vanishes.

* * *

He already knows how Noct will answer when he suggests that they stop their journey. But he cannot help the way his throat clogs up. Because he doesn’t think even Noctis knows the truth of his calling. He wonders who _did_ know…

Did the King know? He thinks back to the day that they left Insomnia, for a wedding that he knew would never happen… He thinks back to King Regis’ words.

_I ask not that you guide my wayward son… Merely that you remain at his side._

At first, Ignis had assumed that the King’s words had been because he knew what was to come when Niflheim arrived; that they would attack, that Insomnia would fall, as would he. But now, he can’t help but wonder if his words held more meaning that that. If perhaps he meant that Noctis would not _need_ guiding, for his destined path was already laid out for him… And it would bring his end.

By the Astrals, if the King had known…

And what of Lady Lunafreya? If anyone would know the Astrals’ plan for the One True King, it would be the Oracle.

It is only when he is entirely alone, when he’s convinced Prompt and Gladio that he doesn’t need anything, that they can go and rest themselves, that he brings his gloveless hands up to his face, where he can feel the scars over his eyes, and wonders bitterly if this too was part of the Astrals’ plan. Do they have everything mapped out? Every death, every piece of meaningless suffering? Is it all to push Noct to the point where he won’t care about giving his own life?

And how could Lady Lunafreya, and King Regis ever allow themselves to follow such a plan? How could they not even _try_ to find another way?

But then, he supposes… He isn’t doing that either. It isn’t his decision to make after all.

But how can Noctis decide on something he doesn’t understand?

* * *

It gets harder by the day to cope with the argument between the King and his Shield. Gladio is furious with Noct, because Noct won’t put on the ring. He yells at him about doing his duty and Ignis wishes he could tell him just what that duty entails. He wants to scream at the big oaf, because he doesn’t realise what he’s saying. He doesn’t realise that he’s pushing Noctis towards death, that he’s going against the King’s last wish by trying to guide the Prince, by arguing with him instead of standing by him.

And Gods, he implies that Ignis has things worse, and he struggles to hold back the scoff at the words. If he’d been granted the chance, Ignis would have happily given his own life, because Noctis does not deserve this cruel burden. The _world_ does not deserve it.

How do the Gods think the world will cope without its King? Do they even realise they’re ending the Lucis line?

And once more, those ugly feelings bubble up inside, those horrid thoughts that he knows are wrong. _I don’t care what happens to this world, Noct doesn’t deserve this._ And he knows it’s selfish, but he can’t help it. He’s so angry. He’s angry at Gladio, for his careless words. He’s angry at King Regis, and Lady Lunafreya, for blindly following along with this prophecy. He’s angry at Noctis for not realising just what he’s agreeing to do - because even if Gladio can’t see it, Ignis knows that Noct will do his duty. He’s angry at the Astrals, for treating Noct like some plaything.

But mostly he’s angry at himself… For thinking he could make any difference. For trying to control the ring. For being a burden on them now. For not fighting more, and letting Noctis continue on this path.

But he made a promise. He promised to stand by Noct, no matter what.

* * *

Prompto is gone. And Noctis blames himself. Ignis’ stomach lurches with the thought that perhaps the last time the two of them will have interacted would be that horrid trick of Ardyn’s… that the last memory Prompto will have of Noctis is of him pushing him off a train and yelling at him.

But they can’t go back. If they do, hundreds of innocent people could be hurt, or worse, and he knows Noct would feel far too guilty about that.

Yet even now, he can’t bring himself to tell Gladio the truth about Noctis’ fate. He can’t burden anyone else with that knowledge. He wonders what would have happened if he had told them, back in Altissia, what he had seen?

He can’t imagine either of them would really know what to do with the information any more than he does. The knowledge could very well tear Gladio apart, because even if he does go on and on about Noctis needing to do his duty, they can all see that Gladio _cares_ about Noct. He isn’t just here out of duty, but because they’re friends. Ignis hasn’t been able to consolodate the two sides of himself over this problem, and he wonders if Gladio would fair any better.

And Prompto… Dear, duty-less Prompto, who seems so simple and carefree. But they all know, though they’d never tell, how hard he worked just so he could feel worthy enough to talk to Noct. And they’ve never brought it up, but Gladio and Ignis can see how important Prompto’s friendship has been to Noct, how glad he is (was?) to have someone simply _choose_ to be around him, not out of duty, but just because they wanted to.

And he realises then how silly it is to even question what Prompto would do if he found out. He wouldn’t be able to fall back to ‘duty’ to assure himself that it’s the right thing, even if it feels so wrong…

It doesn’t matter anyway. They might not even- no, Ignis won’t think like that. Of course they’ll see Prompto again. He’s tougher than he looks.

* * *

When they get separated from Noct, Ignis fears that it’s the end, that he’ll never hear Noctis’ voice again. It takes all his strength not to have a damn panic attack then and there, because _I never got to say goodbye dammit!_ And Gladio is the only grounding force he has, and he latches onto him like a life-line, tries to remember the details of the vision, though it is certainly blurring in his memory now.

And he realises that Noctis looked older in that vision, nothing like the youth he’s been travelling with.

And he begins to hope that perhaps he has a little longer with him.

* * *

They find Prompto, and the relief is almost more than any of them can bear. But Prompto is quiet and subdued, and it takes a while before he is able to reveal why he seems so harrowed.

And he reveals the bar-code to those that can see and explains what he found out, and nobody cares. He’s still Prompto, he’s still their friend.

All Ignis can think is _thank the Gods they got to make up._ He thinks such a tragedy would have been one too many for Noct.

* * *

The Crystal sits before them. Open and waiting, he can’t see it, but he can feel it, and Ignis suddenly feels sick. He has this horrible sinking feeling in his stomach, and he’s never been one to ignore his gut instinct. Something is going to happen here, and he doesn’t think he’s going to like it.

True enough, when Noctis steps up to the crystal, Ignis doesn’t need his sight to know that Noctis _vanishes_. He can feel the emptiness in the air before him, and it feels like his heart’s been ripped out.

Because somehow he knows… The next time he hears Noctis’ voice… Will be the last time.

* * *

_Time heals all wounds…_

Whoever said that was lying. Outright lying through their god-damned teeth.

Ten years have not restored his eyesight, not that he ever expected to regain it; it was his price for deigning to try and use a power not meant for him. He came to terms with that, as much as he could. He’s still angry with himself for daring to hope he could change anything, for being foolish enough to believe he stood a chance of wielding a power never meant for him. But he doesn’t regret it. He doesn’t regret protecting Noctis that day, and who knows, perhaps his loss of sight was a blessing. He dreads to think what the world looks like now… they say the sun hasn’t risen in years.

Ten years have not dulled the dread that sits in his chest, and if anything the time has only sharpened the memory of that vision. That haunting vision.

He gets a phonecall, from Talcott, and when he hears Noct’s voice, he simultaneously soars into the sky and plummets to the ground, the wind knocked straight out of him.

Gods, how he’s missed that voice.

And then Gladio quietly describes how Noctis looks when he gets out of the truck, and he has to fight back the tears, because he _knows_ how Noctis looks. He _saw_ how he looks.

He never plucked up the courage to tell anyone what was going to happen to Noct, but he can sense in the King’s voice now… He knows. His years with the crystal taught him that much. He knows what’s going to happen, and he’s… okay with it.

Ignis tries not to be angry, eventually succeeding in turning that anger into sorrowful acceptance.

A couple of hours later, and they’re around a camp fire, like old times. But it feels so much different. It is bitter-sweet and heartbreaking.

At first, he thinks the both of them will leave it unsaid. That neither he nor Noct can bring themselves to tell Prompto or Gladio what is to come. Inwardly, Ignis mocks himself. He never managed it before now, why would anything have changed?

But Noct… Brave Noct, whose body may have aged but whose mind is still the same Prince they parted ways with so long ago… He tells them. And Ignis can’t see, but he knows that Noct is looking at him when he doesn’t cry.

Prompto and Gladio do though. And in each quiet sob, Ignis can hear the regret they must both be feeling. He thinks he hears Gladio whisper ‘I’m sorry…’, but if the others heard it they don’t acknowledge it.

And while ten years ago, he knows Prompto would have begged Noct not to go, now he’s older and wiser, and he knows that no matter what he says, Noct won’t listen. Because Noct has seen the world now, how dangerous it is, and even Ignis knows that to ask Noct not to do it is asking him to let the world end. And he can’t do that.

Noctis may not deserve his fate, but the world does not deserve its fate either.

Eventually, Prompto and Gladio have cried themselves out, and they relunctantly retire.

“So… How long have you known?” Noct asks softly. Ignis gulps around the lump in his throat, determined to maintain his composure.

“Since… Leviathan.” He hears the way Noct breathes in sharply, the memories still raw for him, because Ignis is certain that he barely remembers his ten years in the crystal. “Pryna showed me, before she passed.”

“I see. So that’s why you asked me to stop.” Noct huffs a laugh and Ignis hears him stand and walk away. Not far, just so he can look upon his city, his home…

It is only there, as Noct’s hands cover his, a perfect bookend to match the way they met, that Ignis feels the tears leave his eyes, and he wishes they worked; wishes he could see Noct one last time.

But this will have to do.

 


End file.
